Crazy Glue
by Ranowa Hikura
Summary: Because every situation has a quick fix. Yes... extraordinarily lame title. Oneshot. Casey comes into the precinct to report an assault.


Yeah, not really sure where this idea came from. Hope you enjoy!

Casey stared at Daniel in shock, trying to process what had just happened. One hour ago, the couple had just been eating dinner and talking. That's it. Casey just didn't understand how they had gone from that to Daniel standing before her with a gun in his hand.

But no matter how much she wanted to think back and understand what the hell had gone wrong, she didn't have time for that. Besides, she could only manage to focus on the gun he was holding. It wasn't pointed at her, or anything in particular, but that didn't matter. He had a gun and that suddenly threw everything into perspective.

Three cuts were beginning to appear on Daniel's face, where she'd scratched him with her fingernails. Tears in his shirt, a forming bruise on his wrist- all from their very recent fight. Casey was sure she had her own bruises to show for it, but at least Daniel would have some too. The question was, would Melinda Warner soon be looking at her bruises on an autopsy table, or would she somehow find a way out of this?

They both stood across from each other, panting slightly from the exertion of the fight. Casey took a hesitant step backwards, and Daniel, seemingly by reflex, raised the gun and fired.

Casey stopped thinking and ran. She was running even before he pulled the trigger, and any pain there should of been from their fight wasn't present. All she could feel was the floor underneath her feet as she dashed out of his apartment, a scream torn from her lips that she only realized was her own when it echoed off the walls. It was if all Casey knew how to do was run. She jumped down the stairs, nearly falling several times, almost managing to get herself run over by a car when she finally made it outside. Still not looking behind her to see if she was being chased or not, Casey continued running own the street, struggling to keep up her pace above the snow and thin layer of ice. The fact that it was still snowing heavily and that she was only wearing a thin shirt, skirt, and was in bare feet- she'd kicked off her high heels on her way down the stairs- only made it more difficult.

Still, though, there was no pain from any possible injuries and she didn't feel the cold yet. Casey just kept running as fast as she could, her only concern getting as far away from that gun as possible. She dodged the few black blurs of people, all she could see because of the snow, and rounded the corner, not headed in any particular direction- just away from that apartment.

When the terrain started to get familiar, Casey realized she was nearing the precinct. God, she'd been running for a little over a mile and she still wasn't tired. But she just had to go a little bit farther; once she got inside, she'd be safe. Casey had no idea why, but something about the idea of making it inside represented safety.

Casey twisted her head to look over her shoulder. There was no one running after her, thank god. Casey started to turn back around, but managed to collide right into somebody just leaving the station house.

Whoever it was swore and collapsed into the snow as Casey fell, barely managing to catch herself on her right arm. Casey scrambled back from before forcing herself to regain her composure- whoever this was didn't have a gun and wasn't about to shoot her. "I'm so sorry," she gasped, struggling to her knees. "I'm so-"

"Damn it," the figure swore before looking up at Casey. "Novak! God. Watch where you're going," Olivia grumbled as she sat up and started trying to brush the cold snow off her coat.

"Oliv… Olivia," Casey stammered before slowly pulling herself to her feet. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run into you, I…"

Olivia frowned and stepped back into the warmth of the precinct, shrugging her wet coat off. "Well, I was headed outside to walk to the store across the street and buy some good coffee, as we're all out and Munch is insisting on making more. But now, since I'll probably get hypothermia out there in my wet, soggy excuses for clothes," she glared pointedly at Casey, "I'm going back inside. Someone else can go do it. And why- oh my god, Case! You're bleeding!"

"H- huh?" Casey stammered, reaching up to feel the spot Olivia was staring at. Sure enough, something warm, wet, and sticky came off on her hand- definitely blood. "Um, yeah. Yeah, it's probably because I fell. I can take care of it. Don't worry. I'm fine."

"Wait, Casey- how'd that happen? And what are you doing back here, anyways? I thought you had some date tonight and left hours ago."

"I, um… I did. And I must have fell. Don't worry, please- I'm fine. Just a little scratch" Casey looked around uncertainly before gesturing with her head towards the elevators. "Um, go on. I'm fine; sorry for running into you."

Olivia nodded, still frowning, before heading towards the elevators. Casey leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes for a moment, still struggling to breathe normally. Now that she was in shock anymore, she could feel an odd, very uncomfortable stinging sensation encompassing her freezing body, most likely from the cold. Her throat was sore and her chest felt like it was on fire- all probably because she'd just ran a mile and a half through a snowy and icy New York.

Aside from that, though… her right arm was burning, and Casey shifted so she was holding her shoulder, suddenly gritting her teeth to hold back a groan of pain. That cut on her head was starting to hurt, too, and Casey was beginning to wonder how the hell she'd managed to make it down here at all before feeling anything.

Here she was, with the SVU squad room just upstairs. Just yesterday, they'd dealt with a case of an abusive boyfriend who been raping his girlfriend for three months. She'd finally gotten the courage to come in and report it. When Olivia had asked her why now; what had made her finally decide to come in and tell the police… the victim had said it was because he threatened her with a gun the night before. That she had finally been convinced that he could hurt her. That he could kill her if he wanted to.

While there had been nothing sexual about Casey and Daniel's fight… he had still had a gun. He had still pointed it at her and shot at her. If his aim was better, she would be dead right now. She grimaced, trying to remember everything else that had happened. But her memory was fuzzy, she could only remember him punching her first… she had shoved him back, shocked, then ducked when he tried to hit her again… she'd kicked him in the shins, he'd grabbed her arm…

Frustrated, Casey stomped one foot into the ground, shaking her head. That was all she could remember until he grabbed that gun. Everything else was a blur.

Should she report it? It was certainly violent enough for an assault charge. And the fact that Daniel had brought that gun out and fired…

He could of killed her with that bullet. Actually, because he fired in an apartment building with thin walls… someone could of been shot. Someone could be dead because of Daniel.

She had to report it. If he'd just punched her, that'd be different- Casey had gotten a few hits in as well and there was no reason to get all her friends involved for something that trivial. But that gun…

Casey started heading towards the elevators, grabbing a kleenex on the way and holding it against the cut on her forehead, which was still bleeding. She swore under her breath, pressing the kleenex harder against her head as well as trying to figure out any other injuries she had. Her right arm was still killing her, but the pain in her chest was slowly subsiding, and her breathing was returning to normal. Shaking her head, Casey stumbled forward when the elevator doors open, still gripping her right shoulder- the blood-soaked kleenex had already become useless. When she walked into the squad room, the detectives didn't notice her right away, which was good. Casey didn't really want their attention- she just wanted to get Daniel off the streets and away from that gun.

She approached them and cleared her throat, shaking her hair out so it was at least partially hiding the cut on her forehead.

Elliot turned to look at her, the first to notice she was there. "Casey? What are you doing here?" he asked, glancing at her before continuing to work on the form on his desk.

"I'm… I'm here to report an assault."

"Who's the vic?"

Casey turned to Fin, still in shock as she slowly answered,"Um… me."

The detectives all turned to look at her in surprise and she shifted uncomfortably under their gazes, rubbing her aching shoulder again. Olivia recovered first; she got to her feet and walked hesitantly towards her and stared at the cut on her forehead. "Case- wait, is that how you got that cut?"

She nodded weakly. "Uh huh."

"But you just told me-"

"I know… I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

Olivia grabbed a clean napkin off her desk and held it to Casey's head. The ADA winced involuntarily, then sat down on the edge of Elliot's desk, leaning on her left arm. "Case, what exactly happened? Were you ra- um, was it sexual, or…?'"

"Oh, no! God, no, of course not," Casey said with a shudder. "No, no, it was just physical. Well, I was hitting him, too- but I was just trying to get away from him, I swear, but then he pulled out the gun."

"The gun?" Elliot asked in alarm. "Casey, did he shoot you?"

She blinked, suddenly realizing that she didn't know if he'd shot her or not. Obviously, nothing fatal or too serious, or she'd be dead by now. Thinking back on it now, Casey remembered a slight sting on the side of her head right after he'd shot at her. She instinctively reached up to feel it, moving Olivia's hand aside.

"Did it graze you?" Elliot asked, his gaze following her movements, and Casey nodded blearily before Olivia put pressure back on the cut.

"Well, I think it did. I'm not sure. After he shot at me I just started running." With another grimace, Casey started rubbing her right shoulder again, suddenly wishing she had just gone home, gotten an ice pack, and gone to sleep.

Olivia noticed her pained expression and asked, "Your shoulder hurt?" When Casey nodded, the detective continued. "Here, let me see. Keep pressure on that." She handed Casey the bloodied napkin before sliding her sleeve down so she could examine Casey's shoulder.

"Did you know him? Can you give us a description, or-"

"Yes, Fin, I know him. He was my date tonight. I can give you a description or anything else you might need. So don't- ow! God, Liv, what the hell are you doing?"

Olivia apologized and backed up a few steps, allowing Casey to pull her sleeve back up. "Sorry, Case. Well, I think it's dislocated, but you should probably get a doctor to look at it to make sure. You'll have to get an exam anyway if you want to press charges."

"Yeah… yeah, I know."

This really wouldn't be that difficult of a case. He'd shot at her with a gun that he probably didn't even own legally. Plenty of people must of heard it; probably the entire apartment building had heard the shot. The bullet had grazed her and the security cameras would show her running from the building less than a minute after he'd fired at her. Her attempts to fight back had all been self-defense, easily proven by the fact that he had a gun and she didn't. Hell, a first year law student wouldn't have much trouble winning the case. So what was the point of even filing charges? She'd have to give her statement, and if the idiot was stupid enough not to accept a plea deal, testify- the whole thing would be probably drawn out for over a month.

Would it really be so bad just to forget about it and not press charges? Yes, she told her victims that getting justice was worth it and, even if the verdict came back not guilty, it was still good they had pressed charges, but her situation was drastically different. She wasn't a victim, and what justice did she deserve? He hadn't traumatized her in any way, had barely hurt her at all… but there was still the fact that he'd fired a weapon at her. He could of killed her. She wanted to put him in jail, not so much for herself, but to get him off the street. That bullet could of killed anyone in Daniel's apartment building. And he'd just senselessly fired at her because… well, Casey didn't know what exactly had sparked their fight or why he'd gotten angry enough to use a gun, but putting him in jail meant he couldn't try to kill anyone else.

"Casey? You listening?"

She jerked, looking up and shaking her head to clear it. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you wanted me to drive you down to the hospital; get the exam over with now," Olivia said uncertainly, and Casey slid off the desk and nodded.

"Sure, why not? At this point, I just want to get home as soon as possible."

Olivia nodded in understanding. "We'll see what we can do."

* * *

><p>"My head hurts," Casey complained under her breath. She grinned at Olivia when she saw the detective step into the exam room and rested the ice pack on her shoulder again.<p>

"Well, I called Fin, he and Munch are on their way to Daniel's apartment building. Elliot looked him up; turns out, there actually is a gun registered to him. So even if he got rid of it, it doesn't matter, we still have proof that he at least owns a gun."

"Good." Closing her eyes for a second, Casey pushed herself into a sitting position and adjusted the sling's uncomfortable strap. "So, I have to go down to the station and give my statement now, right?"

"Right. So, what's wrong with your arm?"

"You were right," Casey sighed as she she started to walk towards the door. "It's dislocated. The cut needed three stitches, but I'm fine."

"What about your leg?"

"What?" Casey glanced at Olivia in surprise before looking down at herself in confusion. "My leg?"

Olivia nodded. "Yeah, you were limping earlier. I asked you about it and you just shrugged and said it was fine, but…"

"Oh, that. No, I was just sore. Really, really sore. After he shot at me, I just started running, and didn't stop until I ran into you- over a mile away. I mean, just because I exercise doesn't mean I can just up and run long distances without stretching, warming up, etc. And running into you isn't the same as running into something squishy or soft; it hurt!"

"You're telling me," Olivia grumbled under her breath. "I think you gave me some bruises yourself, Counselor."

Casey laughed and shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. …Liv, I know it's not protocol, but can I give my statement tomorrow? I'm tired, and I just want to go home."

"Well, I would say yes, but you have Marrow's trial tomorrow. So, unless you want to come in at five in the morning or give your statement after a fun day of prosecuting a rapist…"

She groaned. "Yeah, I guess you're right… god, this wasn't really the way I had planned my night turning out."

"Yeah, I know. But you did do the right thing; you know, reporting it. Most women wouldn't have- at least, until the abuse got more serious."

"Well, to be honest, I wasn't going to either. But that case we've been working the past couple days- you know, where the woman was threatened with a gun by her boyfriend… I thought about it, and it convinced me to press charges."

Olivia nodded and smiled. "Well, on the upside, the guy will probably confess, with all the evidence against him. You know the law; he threw a few punches, you weren't injured too seriously- that'll get him six months, maybe a year. With the gun on top of everything, that's probably attempted manslaughter. A year and a half; two at the most. And-" Olivia was interrupted by her ringing cell phone. Shrugging apologetically, Olivia pulled out her phone, checked the caller ID, and answered. "Hey, Fin. You find Daniel yet? …all right. I'll tell Casey… yeah, she's fine. I'm taking her to the precinct now to get her statement… see you there." Olivia hung up, then turned back to Casey and said, "That was Fin; he and John just arrested Daniel Ray. No one was hurt, and he hadn't gotten rid of the gun yet. Either he's a complete idiot, or he was confident that you weren't going to press charges."

"Which means he's a complete idiot, because I told him I'm an ADA and I work with abuse victims. Apparently, he still thought I'd be enough of a pushover for him to threaten me with a gun and get away with it. Well, I'm not saying victims are pushovers. Couldn't think of the right word. Sorry. Well, you know what I mean. God, I sound like an idiot right now-"

"It's fine, Casey," Olivia assured her with a quiet laugh. "Trust me, when John or my partner starts rambling, it's a lot worse than this. Plus, you have the excuse of being more than a little preoccupied. " They pulled up to the precinct, and Olivia gestured for her to get out. "Elliot's waiting inside for you. I'll be in after I park the car."

Nodding, Casey un-clicked her seatbelt, opened the the car door, then sighed.

Olivia frowned, then asked worriedly, "Hey, Case? You gonna be okay?"

The ADA hesitated, then smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I will be. Thanks, Liv."

Sorry… I really couldn't think of a good ending. Plus, I'm so excited that I'm typing on my wireless keyboard while staring at the TV, my computer in the opposite side of the room- and I'm NOT facing my computer! It's so efficient! Go wireless keyboards and go macs


End file.
